


Blood-Speckled Blooms

by slightly_murderous_sorcerer (emerald_witch_esmeralda)



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, AU where gay marriage is legal, Arranged Marriage, Bisexual King Louis, Bisexual William of Orange, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hate Sex, Louis gets humbled, M/M, Mischievous Philippe, Political Marriage, So does William, Two Machiavellian bastards who don’t understand feelings, Well - Freeform, and knit each other back together again, lots of hate sex, more like tipsy since they can both consent, poor Philippe, technicalities, they will tear each other into pieces, this is gonna be fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2020-04-06 07:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19058230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emerald_witch_esmeralda/pseuds/slightly_murderous_sorcerer
Summary: After his Queen “passes away”, Louis must remarry again for an alliance. Unfortunately, the best political candidate is the absoluteworstpersonally. He wouldn’t marry him if he were the last man on earth...but a King’s life is a matter of state, and he must do what he must for his people...even if it makes him deeply unhappy.William of Orange, Stadtholder of the Netherlands, Prince of Orange and a favorite to become the next King of England finds himself being prepared to marry his old enemy...a proposition he is not looking forward to in the least.He’d rather have the sweet and witty English princess Mary than the arrogant and manipulative bastard that is Louis of bloody fucking France...but if he can stop this war and grant his people peace, then that is what matters even if he must grit his teeth and bear it.When the French lily and the Dutch orange blossom water each other with blood and tears, they may find themselves twined together in the process in a knot that neither of them can untangle. That is, if they even still want to.





	1. The Scent of Blossom (And Blood) In The Air

**Author's Note:**

> _The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants._  
>  \- Thomas Jefferson
> 
>  
> 
> AN: I blame Vera_dAuriac for this shit, just lettin’ y’all know because her amazing fanfic got me into the Wouis ship. Check her out, she’s amazing.

Philippe came into Louis’ bedroom, nearly bouncing on his toes with giddiness. Louis gave his brother a frown that could’ve cracked stone. “What do you want, Philippe?”  
A grin split the Prince’s face as he threw himself onto the king’s bed. “Nothing, dear brother. Just wanted to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials...and to see if I can lend a hand.”  
Louis snorted petulantly, it was almost amusing how childlike he looked. “This is far from a happy occasion, and lend a hand with what?” Philippe studied the two gold bands on his fingers, one on each hand. He had married the Chevalier and Liselotte in a public ceremony after it became legal to do so, and he recalled that day with fondness.  
“Well, since you’re marrying another man and I have considerably more expertise in this sort of thing than you do...I was thinking I could help you prepare for your wedding night. Give you a few tips on how to please your new husband.”

“I could care less about pleasing him!” Louis threw himself up from the bed and began pacing the room. “And why are you so fucking happy?! This is revenge for me pulling you out of the war, isn’t it?!”  
“You know it. And hey, maybe I can visit your new husband since you liked visiting Henriette so often. Fair is fair, is it not?”  
_“You stay away from him!”_  
“Oho, somebody doesn’t like to share! Come on, Louis...I mean you might even like him. Perhaps if you treat this one better than you treated Marie-Thérèse, he won’t be tempted to run off with a dashing Austrian emperor and _you_ won’t be left with egg all over your face.”

 

“How was I supposed to know she would run off?!” Louis was still pacing back and forth while Philippe watched the show. “Are you really surprised? I mean it’s not like you were a very good husband to her, brother. Even if you didn’t love her, you could’ve treated her better.”  
“Like you and Henriette?”  
“Perhaps. I mean we had our problems...me not being attracted to women and all, but we were friends. Anyway, I want to know who you’re marrying.”  
“It will be the best for France, that’s all you need to know.”

“Come on, don’t be like that! I mean I’m going to have to find out sooner or later.” Philippe’s moonbeam grin grew so wide it could’ve split his face.  
“Do you hate me?”  
“Surprisingly after all you’ve pulled? I should, but I don’t. I just enjoy seeing you squirm, a bit of payback. Don’t change the subject here, so who’s it to be?!”  
“William of Orange.” Louis said softly, as if speaking from far away.

“......”  
“What?” The smile slipped away as quickly as it came.  
“I hate him as much as you do, brother. In fact, I _loathe_ the very idea...”  
“Are you forgetting that he started a conspiracy against you?! Planted spies and poisons in your court?! _Murdered Henriette?!”_  
“No! I did not forget Henriette! Her death broke my heart!”  
“But you’ll spit in her face and piss on her grave by bedding the man who killed her. Is that how you repay her love?!” Like mercurial Zeus, Philippe went from looking like Christmas had come early to being near apoplectic with rage...he may not have loved her romantically, but Henriette was his friend. Sweet Henriette. The mother of his children, and William of Orange had taken her away. How could Louis even think...?  
“I’ve put up with a lot from you over the years, Louis. But I swear on the soul of our mother, if you marry him I will never forgive you. That will be the end of our relationship, you will never see me again.”

“I do what I must do! If I must whore myself out for my country...and finally give them peace, I will atone for this war. Henriette would’ve wanted that.”  
“You really think she would’ve wanted that?! If so, you didn’t know her at all!” “Either way, the marriage must take place.“

  


  


  


**The Hague, Dutch Republic**  
“Marry King Louis?!” William’s pale blue eyes seemed to widen almost comically in disbelief, as if his chief minister didn’t repeat himself twice before. The plump old man stood before his stadtholder quite nervously, his enormous silver mustache twitching with his lips. “Y...Yes, my lord. Such a marriage would put an end to the fight and bring needed peace as well as a much-beneficial alliance.”  
“We have England for that!”  
“King Charles has given Princess Mary’s hand to another, I’m afraid.”  
“What?! We had a deal...” William breathed through his nose to compose himself, letting his head fall onto his hand. “I cannot marry that man. I cannot abide by him...he’s so arrogant! And horrible!” His young face quickly took on the same placid expression he had used in the French negotiations, features schooling themselves into an unreadable mask that showed nothing of the fact that his mind was whirring a million miles an hour. “You saw how he treated us during the negotiations. He thinks he is the sun and that the world revolves around him.”  
“Yes, sir. I agree one hundred percent...but now we are getting that alliance with the French. You can realize your dreams of conquering the world...”  
“And save my people from war, that is the most important thing.” William leaned back in the intricately carved, high-backed oak chair and steepled his fingers together. With a maturity that belied his years, he started to weigh the benefits against the consequences. “My people come first...but how happy will they be once we’re literally in bed with France? I will not go the way of De Witt.”  
“I think they’ll be a bit happier than they are now with the war and it’s costs hanging over them, sir.” After a long pause, William waved his hand to dismiss the man, who bowed and left, leaving the young leader to his thoughts.


	2. It’s Always F*kin’ Louis Related

“Louis? What in the world are you doing?” Athenais de Montespan peered over her lover’s shoulder at the book he was reading. It looked far more like something that Philippe or the Chevalier would possess than anything of the king’s. And the lewd drawings inside? It would’ve made the bishop himself turn fantastically scarlet.  
“Preparing for my marriage. Philippe said that if I insisted on this, then I needed “tutoring.” 

Athenais laughed, leaning her cheek against his so that her dark hair tickled the king’s nose. “What were his exact words again? Oh yes; _Professor Philippe says sit down because class is in session. And here with me to demonstrate is my lovely assistant..._ “  
“Then he brought the Chevalier in, of course.”  
“I understand. But still, it’s odd that you’re reading about pleasing other men...” Louis scoffed. “Pleasing him? Oh no, I wish merely to remind him who the big dog in charge is.”  
“You’re worried about all that when I’m sitting here? I must be losing my touch, you won’t cast me aside will you?”  
“Of course not.” Louis insisted, leaning in to kiss her. She smirked against his lips, bringing them even closer together. “Once I get the consummation out of the way, I’ll never have to share his bed or even see him again.”

 

“Mignonette?” The Chevalier peeked around the doorframe to where his husband was stretched out on their bed, seemingly trying to burn a hole in the ceiling with his eyes. “There you are, Mignonette. I’ve been looking all over for you, what’s wrong?” Philippe merely looked at him with those piercing eyes and...”Ah.” The blond nodded his head. “It’s Louis related, isn’t it?”  
“When is it _not_ Louis related?”  
“Why, when it’s _me_ related of course.” Philippe actually snorted in amusement and beckoned the other man over, who flopped onto the empty side of the bed: “I don’t know how you put up with it, darling.”  
“He’s marrying him.”  
“That’s what this whole thing is about? Did you wish to marry William of Orange for yourself?”  
“I wish to murder him. He deserves it, for Henriette.”  
“Perfectly fair...I’d have done the same probably if it were Liselotte.” The German princess had grown on the Chevalier quite a bit, and she was loyal to Philippe which they both appreciated. “Is she still in the Palatinate?”  
“Visiting her uncle, yes.”  
“Speaking of Liselotte...what happened to her family was terribly tragic. I’m surprised she managed to forgive the king at all.”  
“Louis said that he didn’t know what his troops were doing...but I can’t bring myself to fully believe him. Even if he didn’t, he should’ve reined them in.”  
“But she forgave him. I mean if she could forgive that to marry us...maybe you could put William out of your mind for the wedding...

“Never! She’s a good person, I never claimed I was.”  
“But you are. You are, Mignonette and that’s what I love about you. Louis may be a great king, but he’s nowhere near as good a person as you are. And I think that eats away at him.” 

“I don’t know what I’ll do if he marries him...I don’t even know how I’ll react. There are other ways of getting alliances and he’s never shown an interest in men before.”  
“Philippe. Whatever happens with your brother and William of Orange, know that I’m here.”  
“I love you.  
“Love you too.”  


  


“I heard France is...quite lovely in the springtime.” William said to his valet, concentrating on the map in front of him. “Yes, my lord. They say the most beautiful flowers grow there.”  
“We have tulips here...they’re simple but I think they’re fairer than any gilded, pompous French lily. Anyway...so this wedding is to take place in June?”  
“The king preferred the sun to be at its highest...unless you have any objections.” A smirk tucked its way until William’s lips, eyes alight. “I think not, in fact I think it’s a lovely idea. Louis may put on a confident front, but inside he is ever at war. Imagine it though, I could take over the world...and strangely there’s nobody I’d rather do it with.”  
“Sir?”  
“He’s fun. Infuriating, but fun. He’s clever, you just have to scrub away the vanity that blinds those eyes. It’s easy enough to break down that impenetrable mask of his, all you must do is tell him the truth. And the truth is, he needs this alliance as much as we do. Perhaps even more than we do. When do we leave for France?”  
“In a month’s time, sir.”  
“Brilliant.” William recalled their discussions in that convent, it was actually quite delightful debating with the king. And he had to admit, Louis was quite cute when his face flushed with anger like that. He and the older man were so different, but yet so very alike. Like the light and dark side of the moon.

  


  
Louis is at prayer, his knees ached from how long he had been kneeling. “Henriette, what would you do if you were here? Give me a sign, anything. Should I marry him? Would you see it as a betrayal?”


	3. Out Of The Frying Pan and Into The Dutch Oven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive my shittily translated Dutch, everyone.
> 
> liefje- “sweetheart, darling”
> 
> And the Google-translated French:  
> mon cher- "my dear (masculine)"  
>  
> 
> Where William is a smug lil shit and Louis is a cocky big shit...so pretty much their normal, everyday personalities.

  
William adjusted the lacy collar that peeked out of the understated deep plum of his coat as they rode up to the gates of the palace (and prison, but William digressed) that was Versailles. His entourage seemed couldn’t stop staring, and some of them even shielded their eyes from the glare of the sun glinting off the gold. “Damn the opulence of the French, I have to squint every time I look at the gates!” Hendrik van Pels, his valet muttered as he squinted.

  
“I wonder if the flowers are dipped in gold. It’s very lovely, like it was forged by a fairy tale!” A lady shielded her face with an elaborate fan and William was staring at the palace that the Sun King called his home. “It may look beautiful from the outside...but hellish forces have been at work within. Much like the man who built it. Fairy-tales are far too often much darker than we’d like to let our children know...so we clean it up for them. But how do we expect them to navigate the world if we don’t give them the truth?” He recalled their meeting at the convent, when he accused Louis of going to war to escape the hell he had created rather than of out of any real desire to fight him. And the look on the older man’s face let him know that he had hit the mark...he had gotten to the truth and Louis had not handled it well. _Of course he didn’t, men who believe in the divine right of kings don’t tend to take criticism particularly well. It must be all so very exhausting, being king and thinking you know it all. It’s the people who suffer in the end...but at least it seems he’s doing something to amend a bit of that suffering now. If his nobles are killing each other for his favor, what is the man like to live with? Too late to back out now in any case._

“William of Orange, I have come to see your king!” When they pulled up, the guards at the gates opened them to allow the Dutch party inside. “I bet Paris’ streets don’t look half as nice.” “You’re marrying the King of France, how do you feel?” “What I feel doesn’t particularly matter, what matters is that this benefits the Dutch Republic. I’ll learn to live with it, I’m not afraid of Louis XIV.”

  


  


Louis was in council with his ministers, they had been going over a plan concerning their forces in the Palatinate when Bontemps entered the chamber, Philippe following only inches behind with the Chevalier by his side as bright as a sunbeam. “Brother, I...”  
“Couldn’t you have waited until I was finished, brother?” Louis said tightly. Philippe was about to retort when Bontemps cleared his throat. “William of Orange has arrived, Sire!”  
“Is that so?” A smile as tight as his voice appeared over Louis’ face. “Very well then, I must go greet my fiancé.”  
“You brought him here? To our doors?” Philippe’s voice could’ve cut steel if it were a solid material, but Louis did not flinch. “Yes.” He said, almost sad.  
“You didn’t give a shit about Henriette at all, did you? I know you don’t give a shit about me, I accepted that fact long ago but _her_...”  
“One, I _do_ give a shit about you, thank you very much.”  
“You have a damn funny way of showing it! You give a shit about me when it suits you! But I’m not bothered, not anymore. What I _am_ bothered by is your disrespect to my wife’s memory!”  
“I prayed long and hard about this, I appealed to her! I asked her and God...” Louis looked around, seeming to remember that there are other people in the room. “Everybody OUT!” And they scrambled like rats out of a tunnel, all except the Chevalier.  
“Even me, Majesty?” He asked, but eyes trained on Philippe the whole time. He’d be there to support his husband if he needed it, regardless of what the king said.

“Leave!” “Stay!”  
The brothers glared at each other as they spoke their commands at the same time, tension settling over them like a heavy cloak as it oft had so many times before and most likely would again.  
“William of Orange, Sire.” Bontemps came back into the room, William trailing behind him a few paces and surrounded by men and women dressed in the Dutch fashion. “Lord Stadtholder.”  
“Your Majesty.” Two sets of blue eyes were suddenly trained on each other, Philippe tensed like a taut bowstring and the Chevalier squeezed his shoulder in comfort. “I’m here, Mignonette.”  
“Thank you.” But his eyes never left the man who had just entered the room, thoughts of plunging a knife into that heart dancing across the prince’s brain. Louis cleared his throat. “I trust you had a fair journey?”  
“Very fair, thank you. Although I did expect my fiancé to be there to greet me at the gates as is proper.”  
“Forgive me, I was so tied up with work that I got word of your arrival only seconds ago. Welcome to Versailles.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Allow me to introduce my brother Philippe? Duke of Orléans and Duke of Anjou.”  
“And widower of the late Princess Henriette of England. Does the name ring any bells, Lord Stadtholder?” Philippe’s voice was cool and measured, but it was like ice and Louis noticed this.  
“Yes, I am quite sorry for your loss, Your Grace.”  
“My children are sorry for it too. They ask about their mother _all the time_...”  
“Some privacy please, gentlemen. I would like to speak to William alone, I’m sure he is tired from the road.”  
“Oh no, I feel fine. But I thank His Majesty for his concern.” The two of them stood there, smiling at each other before Bontemps, Philippe and the Chevalier left the room, his brother’s look putting a shard of ice in Louis’ heart. Would he really have to choose between France and his brother in this instance? A clearing of a throat behind him re-alerted him to William’s presence. “Oh! Please, sit.” Louis gestured to the chair at the other end of the table, but William merely nodded in thanks and took the one closest to the king that didn’t break protocol. “If we are to be married, we should spend time with each other, no?”  
“Of course.”  
“You know, I think your brother actually may hate me just a tad bit more than he hates you.”  
“No surprise there, you killed his wife.” Louis said darkly.  
“If I recall, it was _Rohan_ who killed his wife.” William answered archly.  
“On whose order? He is your agent, therefore you are guilty.”  
“Oh? Well wouldn’t that mean that your brother is right when he says that you are responsible for the atrocities your soldiers committed in the Palatinate? Who are my allies now, by the way...so thank you, I guess.”  
“I would never sanction such a thing.” Louis hissed.  
“Perhaps not, but they are still _your_ agents, correct? Then you’d be as guilty as they are, at least according to your logic.”  
William would be lying if he said that he didn’t delight in the way that the color rose in the king’s pale cheeks and the corner of his lip twitched as he warred within himself to keep his temper under control...in fact, those Bourbon blues were surprisingly lovely when they were sparking fire like that. “It truly is good to see you again, Your Majesty.”  
William’s tone was light-hearted, as if they were discussing the weather and not murder. Well between the two of them, perhaps the two conversation topics were interchangeable? 

“Fuck you.” Louis says as polite as could be. Far from being offended, William smiles at him.  
“We’re supposed to save that for the wedding, are we not, _liefje?_ Anyway, I am eager to have a discussion...especially given our last discussion didn’t go very well.”  
“And you call this one ‘going well’?”  
“Oh yes. Immensely.”  
"Let's talk politics...that's a subject that we both understand, correct?" Louis folded his hands together and leaned back against his chair. "And the reason that we both agreed to this marriage to begin with."  
"Actually, since we are to be joined in unholy matrimony," William quipped, delighting in the way that Louis' lips actually twitched up into a slight amused smile only to hurriedly go as quickly as it had come...but it was too late. Small victories, small victories. "I suggest that we leave the politics to our ministers and talk about ourselves?"  
"Unholy matrimony? Accurate, since it seems to be your life's goal to make mine a living hell. And it's not as if the spies you placed in my court haven't told you everything about me already. In fact, that should've been my wedding gift, their heads...and I had the _loveliest_ box picked out too. Gilded, I think you would've loved it." To Louis' annoyance, William remained absolutely unperturbed and that stupid, round, perfect face showed nothing. _Damn him! Damn him to every circle of hell... **now** he chooses to show that customary reserve and I'm right here seething inside!_  


"Poison in a candied coating? Liefje, we're getting married...are you not already giving me the physical embodiment of yourself as a gift? And by the way, I didn't put those spies in your court. Like I said during our first meeting, you are the one who made them such easy pickings. But forgive me, that would require taking personal responsibility...I heard that's a very hard thing for kings to do."  
"But yet you would've become one by wedding Princess Mary? Go to hell."  
"I'm already here." William gestured around him. "And I didn't even have to die...you've achieved quite the extraordinary. This is a hell of your own making, and you've trapped everyone inside of it along with you. But if you can endure it, I suppose I can as well...when I'm not attending to my own commitments in the Low Countries."  
"If Versailles is hell, then it is the most beautiful hell the world has ever seen...and the sun rises in it every day., gilding every single thing he touches with splendor." Louis said, a satisfied look on his face.  
"More like a sunburn, but go off I guess." William watched Louis tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, giving him a better view of the set of his jaw. He had a very handsome face...and the Dutchman started to wonder if that hair was really as soft and silky to the touch as it looked. "Anyway, I'll start. What do you like to do for fun? My spies have told me much, true. But I'd prefer to hear it from the man himself."  
"I like "music, art and theatre. Especially theatre."  
"Sounds lovely."  
"I also like to dance, hunt, ride, host parties. I've been told I'm a marvelous dancer, the best in court if not all of France, in fact. Oh, and kick Protestant ass in war. Musn't forget that, that's one of my _favorite_ hobbies." Louis' tone was as if he'd found gold coins in the sand. His face nearly split with the grin on his face when he saw William's face start to pink and his hands wring tightly into his own waistcoat. It was actually kind of cute...how much more control could he lose? If those full, adorably pouty lips were bitten, would he cry out? In pleasure, pain? Perhaps both? "What about you, _mon cher?_ What do _you_ like to do? Besides wear dull, unflattering clothing, try to act older than you are and annoy older men?"  


  


  


  
"Me?" William asked. "Well let's see...I too enjoy hunting, maybe we can go on a hunting trip sometime?"  
"Yes, let's. I have a place in Marly that's one of my favorite spots...I'd be delighted to show it to you."  
"That would be quite an honor. Anyway, I like reading...I have a beloved collection of books that I couldn't bear to leave behind all in Holland so I've brought some of them here."  
"We will certainly make room for them here."  
"Excellent. I don't care much for parties or social gatherings, but I must say that I do like languages...I speak four by the way. And also, I like to study military tactics...a hobby which helped me very much when _we_ kicked _your_ ass out of our borders and all the way back to France. Also last time I checked it was your brother who kicks Protestant ass, not you."  
"If you like him so much, marry _him_ instead!"  
"Maybe I should...at least he's honest with himself unlike other members of the House of Bourbon. Oh, do try not to have a stroke dear...we'll get nowhere if you died at the table." William commented when Louis actually started to go a very interesting shade of purple. He wanted to shut this boy up, cover his annoying mouth. With Louis' own mouth.  
The king took a deep breath, and a deep draft of wine to steady his nerves. "So basically, you're dull, grey and boring. Sounds about Dutch."  
"No, I'm just not frivolous and attention-starved."  
"You're not _fun_ either. Are you even human? Do you know what fun is, William? I believe you have a stick wedged so tightly up your ass that I'm wondering how in the world I'm going to fit."  
"Do _you_ know what self-control is, Louis? No? I didn't think so...you always do too much with your clothes, your hair and your country's funds. Anyway, who said anything about _my_ ass? How do we know it wouldn't be _me_ who ends up in _yours_?"  
"Because I'd never allow it! Anyway whilst we're on the subject, I heard rumors that you enjoy the company of men and women...is that true?"  
"Well...my response to that question is that you'll just have to figure that out for yourself on our wedding night. I'm quite enjoying our talk by the way, aren't you?" Louis glared at him and William sighed like he was genuinely disappointed. "It appears not. Very well...how about we conclude this in the morning."  
"Yes. Let's. My valet will show you to your rooms."  
"Your Majesty is most gracious." With that, Louis summoned Bontemps and watched William's tall, battle-hardened frame follow the older man out of the door.  
When the French king retired to his bed that night, he fell asleep to dreams of punching the shit out of fucking William of sodding fucking Orange's admittedly adorable face. With his own face...and it was the best night's sleep he'd had in a long time.


	4. The Royal Wedding (Or Funeral, If Somebody Dies...Try Not To Kill Each Other, Boys)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they’re getting MARRIED!

**Three Weeks Later: Palace At Versailles  
King Louis’ Bedchamber**

Louis was adjusting his cravat in the tall gilt mirror, smoothing out his hair for what must’ve been the tenth time in as many minutes. Reaching up, he began to apply perfume to his neck and wrists while he tried to ignore the reflection glaring behind him with his own bright blue eyes.  
“You turned William down flat when he offered an alliance the first time! You had courage then, what happened?!”  
“We are the two most powerful countries in Europe...if we wed, nothing can stop us. We could even rule the world.” Philippe looked sadly at his brother. “Are you seriously quoting him now?”  
“Paraphrasing, not a direct quote.”  


  
“Don’t patronize me! Yes, you may gain the world. But is it worth it to lose your soul in the process? Or is it that you lost it along the way a long time ago. I’m beginning to suspect that you did.”  
“What?” Louis turned around abruptly, the silver embroidery in his pure white coat glittered with the shift. French lilies gilt in silver scrolled the length of the coat, with a gold one on the buckle of each of the King’s matching pumps. “You sold your soul long ago. I don’t know when it happened, I don’t know how and I don’t know why. But all I know is that it happened, and I hate what it’s turned you into.”  
“I have not sold my soul...”  
“But.” The prince swallowed, folding his hands in his lap. “I must admit, I’ve never seen a more beautiful bride.” Louis gave him a small smile....it was almost like they were boys again without a care in the world. “Didn’t you sell your ass for France, as you put it? As king, it’s only fair that I make that same sacrifice if it comes down to it.”  
“Why did you choose to be the bride?”  
“Because a wedding is the bride’s day, she is the most beautiful one in the room. Her gown, her hair, all eyes on the room are on her like flowers opening toward the sun. And as I am the sun, all eyes should be on me.”  
“Do I get to walk you down the aisle, brother? Do I get to give you away?”  
“Of course. There’s nobody else I would entrust with the honor.” They exchanged small smiles and then Louis spoke again. “Just please, don’t do it in a dress.  
They burst into giggles almost simultaneously. “What? Afraid I’d outshine you on your own wedding day?” Philippe laughed.  
“Of course not! I am the sun, so I can’t be outshone!”  
“This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven...but he’s quite handsome, I guess?”  
“He is.” Philippe cocked an eyebrow and Louis shrugged. “Hey, credit where credit is due.”  
“Then you could do a lot worse looks wise.”  
Just then, Madame de Montespan came in with her dark curls bouncing elegantly over one shoulder and her satin gown the same green as her eyes. “Athenais.”  
“Your Majesty, Your Highness.” She smiled and gave Philippe a friendly squeeze on the shoulder, prompting him to smile at her in return. Then she turned to her lover, and frowned just a bit. “Your outfit says wedding but your face says wake. You look like you’re attending your own funeral.”  


"I rather _feel_ like I'm attending my own funeral...but by God if I'm not going to be the most fabulous corpse there."  
"The Dutch wouldn't dare poison you, unless they want all-out war." Philippe said icily, Louis was actually touched.  
"You'd avenge me?"  
"Of course. Always."  
"And me, don't forget about me." Athenais interjected.  
"I feel so loved."

  


  


  


  
**Versailles East Wing: William of Orange and the Dutch Delegation**  
"My lord?" William turned around from admiring his own reflection to the worried face of Hans van der Bilt, his Minister of Finance. The older man peered out through his graying blond hair at his master, whose placidly expressionless face gave away nothing. "Yes, Hans? What is it?"  
"It...it's not too late to pull the plug, should you wish it. We could turn around and leave for Holland at once, and we've beat the French before so we could do it again with no problem. They are low on money and men."  
"I will not subject my people to more war if I can help it. I enjoy the thrill of the battlefield, but I enjoy lost Dutch lives even less."  
"I think they'd rather be subjected to war than to have Louis Bourbon ruling over them, sir!"  
William snorted in disbelief, a shocking change to his normally reserved manner. "I'd never let that happen, Louis will never be sovereign. He needs me, and I hate to admit it but we need him too. France has trade routes and imports that would benefit us...and why are you complaining?! If anything, I should be complaining since I'm the one who has to put up with him and go to bed with him for the rest of my life!"  
_He's not ugly...far from it, actually...I think I'll live with the bedding part. The personality part, though? Don't really know about that._

Just then, a knock rang at his door. “Yes?!”  
“Sir, it’s starting soon!” William looked around at his advisors and friends with a steady gaze, fixing a button that he had forgotten. “Well...looks like it’s time to say my “I do”s.  
“It’s your wedding day, my lord.” William turned to see one of his guardsmen at his elbow. “But yet you look like you’re being sent to the guillotine.” “I may very well be, dearest Jan. I trust a blind man with rat poison to prepare my tea a good deal more than I trust the French. But what choice do I have?”  
He walked out of the room, his party trailing behind him and down to where the party was really going to start.

  


  
Louis looked like a resplendent star in the middle of the chapel, he was impossible to miss even in the midst of the nobles gathered all around him to wish him well.  
“Congratulations on your wedding, Your Majesty!”  
“I thank you.” He beamed at the blond woman at his elbow, suddenly growing quiet when all eyes slowly turned away from him and toward the doorway...”I think that’s your lucky groom!”  
William did come into view, and Louis would deny it until the day he died but he gasped. Just a little bit, but fucking _gasped_. When did William look this...this... _good_?! He’d expect him to arrive in his usual dull colors, perhaps a muted red at the most but not...this. The Dutchman cut a most dashing figure in leaf-green satin, embroidered all over with golden and white orange blossoms. His deep green waistcoat glinted with golden embroidery, and he almost glittered as much as Louis himself did when he returned a few waves, that small reserved smile of his once again making him unreadable. Then he looked up at his soon-to-be-husband and Louis felt his cheeks heat up exponentially...it was with great pleasure that he discovered spots of pink rising in William’s face as well. _I’m impressive, I know it...eat your heart out, husband. But **you**... ___

  
William felt himself grow hot as Louis walked toward him following by Philippe, dressed in deep purple and peacock greens with just a touch of silver...picked out by the Chevalier, no doubt. The man sure knew how to make an entrance, even when he was the one who entered. Louis’ eyes met his and William actually, physically felt the breath be sapped from his lungs. _My God...look at him. Like a lily among common weeds....no, I am not thinking that._

Just then, the Chevalier bounded in dressed in Italian red, standing right next to his husband and the king.  
“You’re late.” Philippe said, poking the blond in the stomach.  
“Forgive me, Mignonette...it takes time to look this good, you know?”  
“You look best in nothing at all.”  
“You flatter me, mon cher. But it’s the King’s wedding, I couldn’t very well show up naked.”  
“True, true. The poor man might be eclipsed by your beauty.” They both laughed into each other’s shoulders as they embraced. “Philippe?”  
“Yes?”  
“Why are there two priests?” Philippe’s eyes traveled toward the altar to see Bishop Bossuet standing there as well as another man dressed in much plainer attire. “Ah, that. Well you see, Louis wanted a Catholic ceremony and William of course wanted a Protestant one. They couldn’t agree, almost killed each other at the meeting with the wedding planner...”  
“No surprise there.”  
“So...now we have two priests.”  
“Ah.”  


  


  


  
Philippe untangled himself from his husband’s side in order to take his brother’s proffered arm, William right next to him on the other side. “Well there is my blushing bride all in white...and you have your brother to give you away. How precious.”  
"It is actually France who is giving him away, and so I am representing the physical embodiment of France." Philippe said, his tone frosty. William’s smile was all teeth, and Louis gave him an equally feral one in return. “It’s a Bourbon family tradition...do you have nobody to give _you_ away on your wedding?”  
“I am not a bride, therefore I don’t need giving away. Should I take this as a sign that you intend to be a dutiful wife?”  
“I will do my duty...by my country, not you.”  
“But your duty to me is part of your duty to your country now, is it not? You don’t have to fear, I promise I’ll be a good husband.”  
“Why does that not comfort me?”  
“Bloody hell...are you two going to stand here and gripe at each other all day, or are we going to get this show on the road?!” Philippe huffed impatiently.  
“You are correct, brother. Forgive me.”  
Louis and William then slowly walked side by side to the end of the altar...because they couldn’t choose who was going to stand on the end. “Lovely outfit.”  
“Thank you, you as well.”  
“Although I wonder why you chose white?” You’re hardly a pure virgin maid.”  
“And _you’re_ hardly a greenhorn...according to these sorts of activities, I’ve heard.”  
“Actually, he hasn’t lost his ass virginity yet.”  
_“Philippe!”_  
William laughed softly. “Is your brother always this irreverent in a house of God?”  
“Leave my brother out of this!” Louis hissed. The crowd gathered was surprisingly silent, it must’ve been the discord of the husbands-to-be leaking out into the air and affecting everything it touched. Finally they were at the altar, and Philippe let go of his brother’s arm, the two nodding at each other before he went to go take his place next to the Chevalier.  


  
“Mignonette, this has to be the most _awkward_ wedding I’ve ever been to.”  
“You’re telling me.”  


“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...”  
“To watch the fur fly.” Chevalier whispered into his husband’s ear, who laughed despite himself. Louis shot his brother a glare over his shoulder before turning back to the priests. "I have to go back up for just a bit, the vows are being said." Philippe made his way behind Louis, holding onto his arm again as Father Bossuet spoke. "We are gathered here today in the sight of Almighty God and present company to join these two souls in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate and a solemn, holy vow...therefore it is not to be undertaken lightly, but with a sober and steady heart."  
The Protestant priest then began his part of it: "It is into this most holy of estates that these two leaders, these two men have agreed to be joined. If anyone present has an objection to why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace." Van Pels and Philippe slowly began to raise their hands, before a look from the respective grooms had them put them down again. Bossuet inclined his head toward Louis: "Who gives this prince to be wed?"  
"France does." Philippe moved Louis forward just a bit before exchanging a look again, going back to his unoccupied seat. "Liselotte is missing all the fun, she picked a bad time to go on vacation." The Chevalier said once they were seated next to each other again.  
"Don't worry, we shall give her a fully detailed account of everything that transpired."  
"A full account? Oooh, how exciting!" The Protestant priest then trained his dark eyes on William. "Who gives this prince to be wed?"  
"Holland does." William walked forward himself, insisting on giving himself away rather than having to settle for someone of lower status to do so. Normally he wouldn't care for such trifles, but he would not look weak in front of the French court and especially not Louis.  
"Now, it is time to recite the vows...Your Majesty, since these are your territories I insist you go first." Louis shuffled just slightly, if he said these vows before God then he'd truly be tied to William for the rest of his life. He knew they were going to marry, but it never felt truly real up until this moment. Not like he'd give up his mistresses, or that William would give up any lovers that he may possess. In fact, after the consummation they could go back to living completely separate lives but that doesn't change the fact that they would still be bound _forever_. And once he said those words, there'd truly be no going back.  


"Majesty?"  
"Forgive me, Father. I was just...lost in thought."  
"Cold feet, liefje?" William asked, he almost sounded sympathetic.  
"Not at all."  
“Sirs, it is customary that hands should be joined while the vows are being spoken.” William and Louis merely looked at each other before hurriedly threading their hands together. Louis cleared his throat. _Come on, Louis. Do it for France._  
“I, Louis-Dieudonné of House Bourbon...king of France take William Henry of House Orange-Nassau to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for richer or for poorer, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. To uphold the interests of his territories as my own, to do my duty by him and guard his person as mine til death due us part.” Louis said, staring into William’s eyes. Their hands were clasped, but there were no blushing brides or giggling grooms here...the two of them were as stone-faced as anything.

“Lord Stadtholder?”  
“Of course.” William stood straight-backed, showing total command of himself and took a breath before speaking. “I, William Henry of House Orange-Nassau...sovereign Prince of Orange and Stadtholder of Holland take Louis-Dieudonné of House Bourbon to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for richer or for poorer, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. To uphold the interests of his territories as my own, to do my duty by him and guard his person as mine til death due us part.”  
“So what God has joined, may no man tear asunder.” The two priests spoke in unison. “Now, the rings!” A servant came forward with the rings, simple gold bands. The two men took them with all the gravity of a pair of monks and slid them upon one another’s fingers before turning to the crowd, who erupted into applause.  
“This way to the reception, Your Majesty!” The Chevalier stood up, his face alight with eagerness. “Your devoted Master of Ceremonies has prepared a truly exquisite night for you both for the celebration of your union!”  
“Yes, I’m sure you have...thank you for all of your hard work.” Louis’ words were polite and casual, his face gracious but his eyes were fixed on his brother’s spouse like: _You better **not** have fucked this up for me, Lorraine...your normal brand of debauchery will not fly tonight. If you’ve embarrassed me in front of the Dutch, I’ll beat your ass myself._

“I never did get to ask you, husband. What happened to your beloved Spanish queen? Surely you must miss her?”  
“She fell ill and died after a long and hard battle...I miss her every day, but if she were here she would tell me to do what I must for France. Also she knows that you’d never replace her in my heart.”  
William leaned over to look into Louis’ face. “Or at least that’s the official story. What _really_ happened? We should be honest with each other now.”  
“None of your business. If you don’t believe me, that’s on you.”  
“I don’t.” Louis and William came out arm in arm onto the central balcony, where the crowds below were clapping and cheering. They smiled and waved, and to an outside observer they actually looked happy.  
“I’ll never forgive you for what you did to Henriette.” Louis said, syrupy-sweet and all smiles.  
“And _I’ll_ never forgive _you_ for invading my country and hurting my people.” William said back, the sunny grin never leaving his face. Louis nearly snorted, there is only **one** sun in this universe.  
“You started it when you brought poisons into my court.”  
“Who, me? Maybe you should check your nobles before pointing fingers, liefje. I mean you did keep them locked up in this golden birdcage.”  
William tightened his arm around his husband’s, both of them the picture of wedded bliss.  
“I’m going to fucking strangle you in your sleep.” Louis said cheerfully.  
“Not if I strangle you first.” William’s tone was as if he’d just found out he was going to be a father. “Anyway, if I die you lose the alliance and are stuck at war, for my subjects will avenge me. Would yours do the same for you, I wonder?”  
“Smile for the people, dearest...the whole country must share in our joy.” Like the consummate performer he was, Louis leaned in and kissed William’s cheek before turning back to the crowd with a mirror-bright smile, tossing the bouquet of orange blossoms and lilies to a group of girls in the very front of the crowd before giving a flourishing bow.  


  
“We have a reception to attend, don’t want to keep our guests waiting. I want to dazzle you with the splendor that is Versailles.”  
“I’m not impressed in the least. But you’re right, it would be quite rude to let all your brother-in-law’s valiant efforts go to waste.  
William gave a bow himself before he and Louis disappeared into the palace again.


	5. Wine Tasting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> French wine is amazeballs, and Louis shows off his mad acting skills.
> 
> Shitty Google-Translated Dutch Round 2:  
> Je bent zo verdomd heet en strak ... ik ga barsten- “You’re so damned hot and tight, I’m going to burst!”
> 
> Je voelt je zo goed, je bent zo verdomd volmaakt- “You feel so good, you’re so damn perfect.”
> 
> mijn schat- “my treasure” is the literal translation.

The glittering array of gowns and jewels danced before the golden backdrop of the main ballroom like a scene out of some lurid fairytale. Not least for the two figures seated at the high table, who merely sat side by side drinking wine and not speaking to each other. Louis had ordered the heaviest red that he owned and by the look of the color in his face, he’s had at least two glasses already. Probably not the best idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to care much. He needed some liquid aid to get him through this night.  
William was chatting with some of his Dutch nobles to his left, his cheeks nearly the same shade of pink as the king’s and holding a near-full glass of champagne in his hand. They were speaking Dutch, and so somewhere in his mind Louis wondered whether they were insulting him. Philippe bounded up to the center seat, arm around Louis’ shoulders.  
“Congratulations, brother.”  
“Thank you, brother. I’m surprised you showed up...you were most vehemently against the match.”  
“Well you know me, I’d never pass up an opportunity to see you eat your humble pie for once.” Louis frowned just slightly at that. “Or miss one of my husband’s parties, he’s quite famous for them.”  
“I must admit, the Chevalier has done quite a good job with the ball. I shall have to reward him.”  
“That will please us.” He plucked the glass from Louis’ fingers with the delicacy of a lady. “Do try not to get _so_ drunk, you still have to receive the foreign dignitaries. Oh don’t worry, you’ll like it. They’ve brought you presents.”  
“I do love presents.”  
“See?”  


  
“What do you think of the party, husband?” Louis asked William, who turned his face toward him. “I’m usually not one for big, noisy social gatherings as I’ve told you earlier.” Philippe frowned at the Dutchman’s somewhat dismissive tone. “However, I do have to admit that it’s all quite lovely. And the wine is absolutely excellent.”  
“Of course it is.” Bontemps cleared his throat and announced to the room: “Their Excellencies, the ambassadors of England, Sweden, Prussia and the Holy Roman Empire!” Four men, bewigged and dressed in elaborate clothing came into the room and adding to the sea of color all around them. “Ambassador Ludvig Nilsson of Sweden, Your Majesty.” The first man, tall and thin and dressed in a coat of gold and blue approached the table and bowed. “Lord Nilsson.”  
“Your Majesty. Lord Stadtholder...it is an honor to be here. A gift from King Charles to commend your marriage.” An intricately carved wooden box was placed before them, and William peered over Louis’ shoulder when he opened it. “It’s beautiful.” Louis ran his hands over the rich brocade, admiring the pattern. “Tell your master that we thank him for the generous gift, and we hope you enjoy yourself at tonight’s festivities.”  
“You are too gracious, Sire.”  


  
“Sir Johann der Bitter of the Holy Roman Empire.” A plumper man with a thick black mustache that offset his tall grey wig was dressed in a rich, red brocade coat and bowed his head to the pair. “Your Highness, Your Majesty.” William immediately turned to Louis just to see his face at not being addressed first, but if he _was_ annoyed and one would assume he was, he didn’t show it. “My friend.” William smiled, greeting the man with a handshake. Louis looked surprised, this was the first time he’d ever seen the man show any emotion other than smug self-satisfaction, anger or that damn unreadable mask of his. That smile was...cute? No, it absolutely was _not_ cute! But then why did it make the king’s chest feel odd to see it? William looked at Louis out of the corner of his eye, those piercing stars he called eyes seeming to bore into his very soul, belying the chilliness of them when he’d first looked into them. A small hitch of breath escaped his lips, and then Louis’ satisfied smile broke him out of his trance and he turned back to der Bitter. “I am glad you could make it.”  
“I wouldn’t miss this day for the world, my lord.” The ambassador turned his head when he heard the clearing of a throat. “Welcome to Versailles, my lord.” Louis didn’t like being ignored, not one bit and he made it a point to pin the man down with his eyes. “Forgive me, Your Majesty...I meant no disrespect.”  
“None taken...I am glad you could make it here.”  
“And I am glad to be here...congratulations on your nuptials.”  
“Thank you.” The both of them spoke simultaneously. Another box, this time quite long and made of brass.  
William opened it this time, since the Holy Roman Empire were his allies and Louis had a certain...history with them but that’s neither here nor there. William carefully took the sword out of the box, it was a twin set so there was one for Louis as well. “It’s wonderful, give Emperor Leopold our deepest thanks.” William smiled again and the ambassador bowed.  
“Please, feel free to enjoy yourself as much as you like during your stay.” Louis added. Der Bitter bowed again before disappearing into the crowd.  
The rest of the next hour was spent eating, drinking, receiving presents and talking...all getting quite dull after a bit, until the music started to play. Louis turned to William and stood up. “Shall we dance?”  
“Husband?”  
“It’s only proper, after all...I mean this ball _was_ thrown in our honor. You do know how to dance, do you?”  
“I know the basics.” William took Louis’ hand as he rose. “Very well, let’s get on with this then.”  
They stepped out into the middle of the ballroom and Louis decided to start with something simple, the minuet...even a toddler with two left feet could probably dance it correctly. “Just follow my lead.”  
To say that William was grace personified would be a lie, but the man clearly had been taking lessons...he followed along easily enough, pretty light on his feet and within a few minutes you could hardly see him make a mistake at all. Louis was actually quite impressed.  
“If only you fought as gracefully as you danced.”  
“If only you danced as well as you fought.”  
“Touché.” 

_  
_

__  
Just then, a clinking of a glass against a fork could be heard and everyone turned to look at Philippe and the Chevalier standing side by side at the dais. “Excuse me, everyone! Now that I have your attention, I’d just like to propose a toast to the newlyweds...to my brother, King Louis. And to his husband, the Prince of Orange.” Louis huffed out a laugh at how petty Philippe was being by not saying William’s name while William’s mouth grew taut, the only sign of his annoyance. “May your union bring prosperity to your nations and happiness to your souls. To the king!”  
“The king!” The nobles called out, raising their glasses. “I thank you, brother!” Louis called out, raising his own glass of champagne.  
“And to my husband, the Chevalier de Lorraine for putting this amazing party together! Three cheers for the Master of Ceremonies!” The Chevalier bowed with a smile among the cheers and sat back down. “Mignonette, you are too gracious.”  
“And you need to be acknowledged, just sit back and enjoy it.”  
“Thank you, Brother. Lorraine. Without you, this night would not be nearly as splendid as it is.” The nobles clapped once again, and everybody sat down to drain their glasses. The rest of the party passed by in a sort of a blur, William and Louis had returned to their seats and they were sipping on a glass of white each. Louis did not recall how much time had passed before he saw the Chevalier rise and tap his glass with his knife. “Well this party has been absolutely splendid, don’t you think?!” The cheers of the attendees was confirmation enough. “Well of course it was, the Duc d’Orleans and I planned the whole thing. Anyway, it’s all been lovely but I think it’s time to get to the final aspect of the wedding, don’t you?!”  
“Final aspect?” Philippe asked.  
“Why, the bedding ceremony, my dear! Don’t you remember yours?” William nearly spit out his wine.  
“All three of them, in fact.”  
“Good, then you know what I’m talking about! I believe you should go and help His Majesty prepare for bed, and maybe the dowdy Dutch will help William.”  
Both men at the center of the table were so red with embarrassment that Philippe guffawed loudly. “Oh come now, it’s not like this is your first show.”  
“It isn’t.” Louis grit out. “But...”  
“The whole court would’ve known anyway. Now come on, let’s get you ready.” He took Louis by the arm and swept him away into a gathering that included Bontemps, Louvois and Athenais, who immediately leaned over to whisper to him. “Visit me tonight, my king?”  
“Of course I will...as soon as I get the consummation over with.”  
“I’ll be waiting for you.” Louis kissed her and let them lead him away while van Pels took William by his arm and he was led away through the opposite door by Jan, Jan’s sister Edna and his own trusted valet.  


__  
They were led to the king’s bedchamber, Louis coming in through the side and William coming in through the main door. Father Bossuet and the Protestant priest said a blessing before departing, but Louis and William just couldn’t stop looking at each other the whole time...it was almost like the world around them disappeared. “You boys have fun now!” The Chevalier waved and swept Philippe out of the door, while Jan bowed to William and left with Bontemps following shortly behind, stopping to grab something off the table. “Leave the wine, Alexandre.”  
“Are you sure, Majesty?”  
“Never been more sure of anything.”  
“Very well...goodnight.” Soon enough they were alone, staring at each other still like they thought the other was an illusion and couldn’t possibly be real.  


_  
_

__  
Louis was the first to move, gliding toward the other man with the same grace he showed in the ballroom, his gold-embroidered nightshirt glinting in the low candlelight.  
_Even now, he’s a glittering star_.  
William wrapped his fur-lined dressing gown around his shoulders and eyed his new husband. Louis took in the sight of the other man before him as well, looks wise they both could’ve done much worse.  
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” The French king said haughtily, voice slow and unclear.  
“Quite right.” William unsteadily took off his dressing gown, nearly tripping over it and stood only in his nightshirt. Each step he took toward Louis made the other man more acutely award that this _boy_ was taller than him even in his stocking feet, William’s nose near brushing his forehead. “Bend over.” And just like that, Louis was shaken out of his reverie.  
_“What?!”_  
“Bend. Over.”  
“What the...I am the king of France! You are in _my_ realm, and I will not let you mount me like some bitch in heat!”  
“But you expect _me_ to yield myself to _you_.” “Of course.” Louis snorted like this was common knowledge. “I am the king and you are a mere stadtholder. Plus you are young and age wins out.” William cocked an eyebrow as calm as could be. “I believe that in this domain, _experience_ wins out. And I have more experience in this area than you do. Now shut up and bend over.”  
“I will not!” Louis said stubbornly, but then a look came over his face. “So the rumors are true, then.” But then both heads were snapped to attention when they heard shuffling and whispers outside of the door, Louis cocked an eyebrow. “They will not leave us alone until they’re certain that this marriage is consummated.”  
“How annoying. Well, I’m not going to submit and neither are you...this is hopeless.”  
Louis’ eyes shifted toward the blue and gold bedspread before a smirk came over his face. “Maybe it isn’t.” It only took William a few seconds to catch on before a mischievous smirk tucked its way into his mouth and his eyes were ablaze. “Are you sure? You don’t think such activity is...beneath you?”  
“I’d rather have this beneath me than be beneath you. And I rather think you feel the same.” They’d be beheaded before they admitted it, but they were of one mind and grinning at each other. William gestured toward the bed. “After you then, liefje.”  


_  
_

__  
The gathered French and Dutch delegations held their collective breath as they huddled together outside of the royal bedchamber. “You hear anything?” “No, not yet...wait!” A faint squeaking could be heard if one was still and quiet enough, then came the giggles. “They’re...laughing?” “Well, I suppose one must lighten the mood...” Amidst the laughter came a sharp, sudden sound. “Was that a moan? I think that was. And then it came again, higher, breathier, almost tremulous and there was no mistaking it. “Thank God! I thought we’d have to stand out here all night!” As the footsteps retreated, Louis and William laughed louder, hair mussed and cheeks aglow from wine and mirth as their feet bounced up and down on the plush mattress. Finally there was silence, and Louis flopped directly onto his back from the final jump. William let himself land into a seated position, both of them undone in peals of giggles. “That was...I haven’t...” William clutched his stomach through his nightshirt and laughed, trying to get enough air into his lungs to speak. “I haven’t had that much fun since I was a boy!”  
“You still _are_ a boy.” Louis said, smacking him lightly with a pillow. William returned the gesture with a grin on his face. “I haven’t had a proper pillow fight since me and my brother were knee-high. So, what do you think?”  
“Your skill in the art of deceit has helped your acting, if nothing else. You really did sound like a brothel whore.”  
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” Louis threw his head back dramatically, closed his eyes, arched his back and moaned as loudly as he could, William clapped his hands over his mouth in a vain attempt to stop himself from laughing again. “You would’ve made a far better actor than a king, let me tell you.”  
“Shakespeare took lessons from me.”  
“Impossible, he was born before you.  
But...”  
“But?”  
“It has made me curious as to what you would _truly_ sound like in the throes of passion.” William’s words were slurred and his head was spinning even as he was lying down, but his eyes followed the long, lithe lines of the king’s frame as he padded unsteadily to the table in the corner of the room and grabbed the half-full bottle that rested there along with two glasses. They had been drinking all throughout their reception, and it showed very clearly now.  
“France has the finest wine in the world.” Louis hands William a full glass and he takes it. “I have to agree. What is this...it doesn’t look like the red we had at the wedding?”  
“This is Pinot Noir, quite popular in Burgundy.”  
“It smells faintly cherry and...like wood almost.”  
“It’s been aged for quite a bit, it’s supposed to.” Louis sipped from his glass and William put his down on the nightstand, turning toward the king who climbed in on the other side of the bed. “I wish to taste it.”  
“You have a perfectly full glass sitting right there.”  
“Everyone drinks their wine from glasses...I wish to be a bit more, adventurous tonight.” He brushed his lips across Louis’, both of their nostrils filled with the heady scent of wine on the other’s breath. They didn’t know whether it was the wine or the mirth, lust or mere curiosity...what, neither could say. But Louis did take another sip and did not swallow it, instead leaning down to capture William’s mouth with his own. William gripped Louis’ hips hard enough to leave marks, judging by the gasp that came from the French king. The Dutchman seized the opportunity to slide his tongue into that open mouth and drink the wine that way. “Mmh.” He chased every last drop from the king’s mouth that he could catch, and Louis trembled ever so slightly when they pulled away, trying to regain the breath he had lost.  
“So? What did you think?”  
“Excellent. So excellent in fact, that I’d like to taste it again.”  
Louis once again took a sip of wine, kissing William again while William slid his hands into that hair that _was_ every bit as soft as it looked. He moaned for the feel of it, then a wicked grin came over his face and like a man possessed, he splashed the glass of wine on his nightstand onto the king, who sputtered. “William! What the fu...” Louis was caught off guard for the briefest moment, allowing William to pull him down and straddle him. “I’m so glad you see it my way.” he whispered, kissing Louis again and slowly started trailing kisses from jawline to cheek to suck the wine from his skin. Sliding a hand between his legs, the king went limp when his cock was fondled and allowed William to settle in between his thighs.  
“You have lovely legs.” The burning anger that Louis had felt after having his favorite nightshirt stained with wine was slowly replaced with a different burn in his belly when William started to dab the wine from his glass onto Louis’ thigh with his fingers, sliding purple trails along the king’s skin that he quickly followed with his tongue. The gasp Louis made this time was from pleasure and surprise instead of anger, although the flush was still very much there.  
“I’ve always enjoyed a good wine tasting...but never quite like this.” Louis panted. William smirked. “Well, looks like the old dog can learn new tricks after all.”  
“Or young Bacchus has had a bit too much to drink, as usual.”  
William then sipped some wine himself and Louis nearly attacked his mouth even though he’d had this wine several times before...it wasn’t even his favorite but somehow, it had never tasted so good. They were lost in kisses and the heady feel of wine before the feel of hands going under his nightshirt made Louis snap out of the haze of pleasure, but only barely. Give in so easily?! He wasn’t having it, so he pulled away to chuck off the wet and dripping thing, flipping them over using all the strength he had. He’d never been terribly physically strong. “You really thought I’d give in so easily? Here? In my domain...I think not.” Louis shifted his hips to elicit a gasp from the man under him. “Look at that, isn’t that precious?” Louis kept his smug look, but William was looking at him like he wasn’t worried at all, pulling his own nightshirt over his head and pressing his leg between the older man’s thighs. Louis actually bucked up at that touch. “Come on...you know you’d like to come as badly as I do. Just give in, _mijn schat_ and I’ll give us what we both want.”  
Louis’ eyes remained defiant, he would not let William win...but by George if he didn’t want to come. _I cannot let him...no. It is unthinkable...then why is part of me thinking it? Why does part of me want to surrender to him completely?_ You have an adorable nose.” Louis whispered, kissing William again on aforementioned adorable nose. “What?”  
“Your nose, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You have an adorable button nose, it matches your round face.”  


__  
At that moment, Philippe’s words echoed in Louis’ head: _The bottom can actually be the most dominant position if you know what you’re doing. His cock may be in your ass, but you’re the one in control. You are the one who allows him to come or not, his entire focus is on you. The shift of your hips, the look in your eyes, the tone of your voice when you tell him how hard or fast to go...the arch in your back when you’re taking him for all he’s worth. Make him yours, women do it all the time. If he’s inside you, he’s on your turf. Make him play on your terms, think of it as another battle. And besides, wouldn’t you like to cede control for once? Who am I kidding, you’d never let that happen because you’re too stubborn...but it’s actually quite nice. To let somebody take care of you when you have to take care of everything else._  


__  
“Alright then.” Louis leaned back to sit himself at the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving William’s. “Come.”  
“You’re serious?” William arched a dark eyebrow, but he felt his control slowly slip away with every kiss Louis planted onto his neck, and the way he nibbled and licked at his collarbone. “But you just said...”  
“I just want this over and done with.” _Let’s see if your method works, brother. _  
__

______  
“You have something planned. But at the moment I do not care.” William crawled over him, crushing their lips together and licked his way into the king’s mouth as Louis spread his legs just so. Once his husband was settled once more between his thighs, Louis gripped William’s shoulders and shifted them so that he was straddling the younger man’s lap, kissing his neck and shoulder the entire time while moving his hips just enough to keep them both on edge. He then made a great show of reaching under the pillow and pulling out a vial of oil, William’s eyes were nearly black when he saw it. “Let me lend you a hand there...” Louis snacked the roaming hand away. “Do not touch me.”  
“What...I’m not allowed to touch you?!”  
“That’s what I said.”  
“Then what do you expect me to do?!”  
“Lay there.” Louis coated his fingers with the oil, spilling a little on both of them and on his expensive silk bedspread. But the king didn’t much feel like clucking at the damage as he was too busy reaching behind himself and sticking those slick fingers carefully up his arse. William’s look turned from lust to wincing when he saw Louis’ face. “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”  
“How hard can it be?! All I have to do is find the damn...fuck!”  
“Here, let me help.” William attempted to sit up but Louis pinned him down. “I said not to touch me!”  
“Neither I nor my very aching cock particularly _care_ what you have to say. And by the looks of things, I say your cock doesn’t either. You’re fit to burst, looks like.” After sitting himself up again and taking the oil, William poured it on his own fingers and reached behind Louis, gently pressing one just inside of him. The sharp intake of breath was soon replaced by a breathy gasp when William found just what he was looking for. “What...”  
“I’m loosening you up, seeing as you’re fumbling through it.”  
“How do you...?”  
“As you probably surmised, I fancy women and men. And I’ve had lovers of both sexes, unlike you it seems.” Louis let out another gasp as a second finger entered him, slowly stretching him out. “Come on, pillow princess and make yourself useful.” He tosses the oil to Louis, who took it with shaking hands and let out a particularly obscene moan when a third finger was added. “Just cover my cock with it, that shouldn’t be too hard.”  
“Unlike your cock it seems.” Drawing it out, Louis had to say that he was impressed. Letting the oil puddle in the palm of his hand, the king slowly worked his hand up and down his husband’s cock and the oil with it. William groaned and buried his face in Louis’ neck while he continued his task...this at least he knew how to do. He’d taken himself in hand plenty a time before. Once he was satisfied, Louis recounted in his lessons with his brother that he was supposed to straddle William’s lap at this point. Taking a deep breath, Louis lifted himself onto his knees and clutched William’s shoulders before slowly sinking down until he was all the way inside, a loud groan coming from both of them simultaneously. “Shit...this feels different. I don’t know how to describe it...”  
“Save the poetry and fucking _ride me already.”_  
He normally would’ve snapped back, but being in this extreme state of horniness just made Louis settle for a glare as he moved himself up and down, back and forth slowly in William’s lap. Speaking of William, he was far too busy licking a stripe up Louis’ neck and nipped at his chin, making him gasp. Louis growled in his throat, biting down on William’s pouty bottom lip and giving it a sharp tug before pulling away and soothing it with a kiss, licking his lip and sucking it into his mouth.  
_”Je bent zo verdomd heet en strak ... ik ga barsten!”_ William panted, crying out when Louis moved his hips again. _”Je voelt je zo goed, je bent zo verdomd volmaakt.”_  
“Don’t know if you’re praising me or insulting me, but just keep talking! Shit!” Louis looked down and frowned at the purple and greenish stains on the Italian silk, embroidered with golden fleurs-de-lis. “Look at my bedspread! Do you know how hard that’s going to be to clean?!”  
“We’re going to ruin your bedspread very soon with something a lot more damaging than oil and wine, so I suggest you don’t balk too much. And really? I’m balls-deep in your ass and you’re thinking about your damn bedspread?”  
“It’s called “multitasking.” Rulers often think about more than one thing at once.”  
“True. Then let us think about making both ourselves and each other come.”  
“Sounds like a plan.” Louis kissed William again before pulling away. “There’s something I wish to try.”  
“Oh?”  
Louis pulled himself off of William’s cock, making him groan in frustration but then he saw the king turn himself around with his back facing him. “No.”  
“No?”  
“I want to see your face. How am I to know what you look like when you’re being fucked if I can’t see your face?”  
“Very well.” Louis turned himself back around, sinking himself back onto his husband’s cock with a hiss, this time of pleasure rather than pain and moved his hips in a way that made them both cry out, digging his hands in William’s hair as the younger man had his face buried between neck and shoulder. Suddenly, those fake moans they had put on for the peanut gallery were most decidedly not fake.  


____  
“Philippe?” The Chevalier was holding a candlestick dressed only in his nightshirt as he made his way down the darkened halls, holding the plate of pastries in his hand that he was going to surprise his husband with. If Louis got to have his fun, they would make sweet music of their own. The candle-light fell upon a familiar door.  
“The King’s bedroom. Okay, that means I’m close...how is it possible to live in this damn palace for so many years and still get lost in i...” he was stopped in his ramblings by what sounded like a faint moan. No surprise there, somebody was always fucking in this place. But then he heard it again, this time it came from his left.  
From Louis’ bedchamber.  
“Can’t be. He went in there with William, and we all know they hate each other...unless he kicked him out and Athenais is with him now.” The blond took a breath and made to walk past like nothing was happening, but then curiosity won out and he pressed his ear to the door...his green eyes shot open like a shaken bottle of champagne. That was definitely a decidedly _masculine_ and decidedly _familiar_ voice call out William’s name. Followed by _”yes”_ and then _“fuck”_ ”, and then _”oh **god**!”_  
“You’re fucking _killing_ me, Louis!”  
When he managed to snap out of his surprise, he found his hand mere inches from the handle of the door. “No! This is a bad idea...I shouldn’t do it.” Then another gasp. “Hell, when has that ever stopped me before?” Cracking open the door just so, he peered inside and was _not_ prepared for what he saw. Louis was straddling William’s lap, and by the looks of things...he was the one getting fucked.  
“Louis...was the one who took it up the...” The Chevalier pondered as he shut the door, careful not to make a peep.  
Picking up the plate and the candlestick, he padded his way down the hall as quickly as possible. “Mignonette! You won’t _believe_ this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just needed some bottom Louis in my life, okay? But I knew he wasn’t gonna surrender easily, and neither was William...that’s half the fun of their characters and of writing this ship though.  
> Plus I almost made the Holy Roman Emperor (the one who seduced Therese) not give Louis a wedding gift, so that’s two insults. We almost had a bridezilla Louis on our hands (I may write this scene again with Bridezilla Louis as a oneshot because that would be SO fun, but I had a plan for the main fic and stuck to it)
> 
> In case anybody was curious, William is 28 and Louis is 40 in this fic (historically there was a 12 year age difference between them).


	6. A Marked Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning-after antics and a pissed-off Philippe.

“It’s done. Now I can go back home and never have to see you again.”  
“Good. I can have my bed back to myself again.”  
“We all know it’ll just be occupied by whatever mistress you’re interested in at the time.”  
“And yours won’t be?”  
“It’s really none of your business.”  
“Just as mine are none of yours.”  
“Fair enough.” William and Louis were surprisingly still clinging to one another, blankets pulled up to their necks. “But...I have a curiosity to satisfy. Did I do well?” William asked slyly. “Well, for a dull, grey and boring Dutchman of course.” Louis had his head resting on his shoulder. “Yes, you smug, cheeky little bastard.” He chuckled. “Round of applause. And about me?”  
“I enjoyed it immensely...you were quite lovely, for a beginner. Wanna go again?” Those clever fingers were dancing across Louis’ back, reaching under his hair to wrap loosely around the nape of his neck.  
“I’m an old man, have some consideration.” And they both laughed into each other’s hair. After a few minutes to compose himself, Louis slowly untangled himself from his husband and rifled through his wardrobe for a clean nightshirt, pulling it over his head and walking over to the window. William merely burrowed deeper into the warm nest they had left to finish his night’s sleep...but France had other plans.  
“Rise and shine!” Louis threw open the curtains and William groaned softly from the other side of the bed. “Wh..why are you awake?”  
“I always wake up this early, I have the royal documents to attend to.” William blinked his eyes around the still-dark room, Louis leaned over to light a candle and a knock was heard at the door. “That’d be Alexandre with the paperwork.”  


  
“Seriously? The sun hasn’t even risen yet!”  
“Of course it has, you’re looking at it.” William rolled his eyes so hard that they might have fallen out of his head if that were possible. “Now I must prepare because the Grand Lever is about to start in two hours.”  
“Grand Lever?”  
“Yes...you see, it’s part of the rules of etiquette that my brother and I devised. The highest ranking nobles come to watch me dress, should I even have to explain this to you? Or did your spies not gather _that_ little bit of info as well? I’m surprised you didn’t know the way I stand when I piss.”  
“Oh, I heard of it.” William waves a dismissive hand. “But I simply couldn’t believe it...I thought they were poking fun. But to hear it from your mouth...what’s next? Do your nobles fight for the honor of holding your shoes?”  
“They do, actually. I enjoy putting on the show.” Louis had opened the door and taken the lap-table along with ink, quills and papers and dismissed Bontemps with a nod of thanks.  
“How do you get any privacy?!”  
“Privacy? What’s that?” Louis joked.  
William frowned at him. “But it’s not relevant, a small price to pay for...”  
“Keeping your foot on everyone’s necks? See this... _shit like this_ is why your nobles started to murder each other.”  


  
“Nonsense, it keeps them in line!”  
“Affair of the Poisons? Or did you forget?”  
Color rose in Louis’ cheeks again...almost as red as a Dutch tulip. _You really **are** too easy to rile up._  
“And this is how you go about your everyday routine.”  
“Yes. It is.” Louis said through grit teeth. William merely blinked at him a couple of times and his calmness made the king want to punch his new husband in the face.  
With _his_ face.  
No...with his fist! He meant _fist_ , not face! But the thought of somebody ruining that pretty face and that distractingly cute nose broken and covered in blood almost hurt to think about.  
“That’s it.” William grumbled sleepily, throwing the blanket over himself up to his neck. “I want a divorce, and I’m going back to Holland...this place is a madhouse.”  
“Please, do. We’ve done our duty and so there is no reason for us to see each other again, you said so yourself. But isn’t it the most absolutely beautiful madhouse you’ve ever seen?” Louis asked, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room and writing. “As my husband, you should participate in the Lever.”  
“As a _normal, sane_ human being, I’m going to get dressed in _private_ like a normal, sane human being does.”  


  
“Suit yourself.”  
“Where is your library? I’d like to get some reading done at least, if I’m to have my sleep interrupted.”  
“In the east wing, green room. Can’t miss it.” William threw on his own nightshirt and padded out of the room, while Louis’ followed him away and went back to his paperwork.  


  
“Mignonette!” The Chevalier had an arm around his husband, whispering loudly into his ear and attempting to shake him awake.  
“Hmmm...Philippe?” The other Philippe groaned, using the Chevalier’s real name. “It’s five in the morning, what are you doing?!...oh shit, the Lever!” The duke bolted out of bed but hands pressing on his chest kept him from leaving. “Ah, ah, ah...not yet. We’ve got about an hour yet and there’s something I absolutely _must_ tell you!”  
“What exactly?”  
“Well my darling...when I was looking for a surprise for you in the kitchens, I stopped by and visited His Majesty last night.”  
“What? Did he ask you to come see him? And why?” Philippe asked, a bit more awake now.  
“Oh no, this was an impromptu visit...undertaken by myself on account of having heard something _very_ interesting.” The Chevalier leaned down to whisper conspiratorially into Philippe’s ear. “There were moans coming from his bedroom.”  
“That’s it?!” Philippe lightly smacked his husband’s arm away, getting out of bed to get dressed. “We all know my brother and his sexual appetite, that is _not_ breaking news!”  
“Ah, but it is, my star! I assumed that fair Montespan was with His Majesty, but then I realized soon that it was William of Orange with him!”  
“That’s not a surprise either, they have to consummate the marriage to validate it. Now get dressed or you’ll make us both late.”  
“They were doing their duty...quite enthusiastically.” “What do you mean?” Philippe’s eyes widened. “You looked in on them, didn’t you?”  
“I couldn’t resist! Anyway if you want the unedited, no frills version then I shall give it to you. William fucked the shit out of your brother. Like, gave him the business. And guess _who_ was on the bottom? Well, not physically on the bottom per se, but you know what I mean.”  
Philippe’s blue eyes slowly widened. “No.”  
“Yes! He was chanting William’s name like a prayer.”  
“Louis was actually...THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE!” Philippe laughed, flinging himself into his husband’s waiting arms. “Oh, I’m going to keep the image of him actually surrendering to someone else in my head forever! Now come, we mustn’t be late for the Lever.”  


  
The ceremony concluded pretty much as usual, the king quite enjoying his daily performance of gussying up for the nobles. What did that William know?! He’s been here a month and only had whispers in regards to what’s going on in his court.  
Now the final touches: hair, cravat, perfume and then prayer. Bontemps was standing next to Louis, brushing back his hair when he spotted something that caused him concern. “Everybody must leave at once!” He shouted to the gathering of nobles, and Louis turned to him in surprise. “Bontemps, you do not dismiss my nobles! I do!”  
“Of course, Sire. But...I need to talk to you about something urgently, and at once! Alone!”  
“Can it not _wait_...”  
“It cannot, I’m afraid.” Louis stared at him before closing his eyes and taking a breath, waving a hand to dismiss the crowd out of the room...even leaving, there were confused whispers. The door clicked behind them and there was Bontemps, Louis, Philippe and the Chevalier left standing there. “Your Highness...”  
“It’s alright, Alexandre. They can stay. Now tell me you have a _good_ reason for dismissing my court?”  
“Your neck, Sire.”  
“What _about_ it?” Louis replied tersely. Philippe walked over to Louis and pulled him toward the nearest mirror, pushing his hair back to expose an bright, livid red mark right there in stark relief on the side of Louis’ pale throat. And it wasn’t a small one either. “Did you really want your entire court to see _that_?” Louis was embarrassed, Philippe’s expression was flat, the Chevalier looked like Christmas had come early and Bontemps looked two seconds away from passing out right there on the floor.  


  
Bontemps rushes over to Louis, lifting up his chin. “Majesty, what happened?! Was there an attempt on your life...did somebody try to strangle you?!”  
“My dear Alexandre, if it _were_ strangulation then the bruises would be entirely around his neck.” Philippe said dryly. “And they wouldn’t be shaped like _that_.”  
“Are you a detective now, Philippe?” Louis shot.  
“No, I’m just not an idiot.”  
“A spider bit me in my sleep, Alexandre. Nothing more.”  
“Yes, a particularly aggressive Dutch breed. Nasty buggers, they’re known to be venomous but luckily His Majesty seems to have only suffered a dry bite.” Philippe said again, eyes never leaving that mark.  
“Then we must rid the palace of it!”  
“That’s what I said. But I believe His Majesty has grown fond of it...he wants to keep it as a pet.”  


  
“Alexandre, will you leave me and my brother alone for a moment, please?” “Of...of course, Sire.” Bontemps bowed and cast one last look at the king before slowly walking out of the room, and before Philippe could even speak, rage and amusement warring inside him, the Chevalier had to go and chime in. “Forgive my boldness, Sire...but it seems Your Majesty cut himself a slice of Dutch apple pie last night?”  
Philippe replies tightly; My dear, it’s William who’s obviously helped himself to a bite of French pastry. No surprise to that, I mean they _are_ notoriously decadent. Who could resist them?”  
“And delicious. Especially the ones with custard filling...”  
“Will you two stop this?! I did my duty, nothing more.”  
“But yet you let him _mark you_ like...”  
“I thank you for the advice you gave me, brother. Very helpful.”  
“And once again, you’ve given me cause to regret it.”  
“How so?”  
“Well, I could understand the well-being of France. Hell, I even understand having to consummate the marriage...but to see you actually _enjoy_ it knowing what he did...how did it not _sicken you to your stomach_ to let him touch you in the place you touched her?! Of course you didn’t, you don’t know what shame is.”  


  
“I laid back and thought of France.”  
“If only I could believe that.” Philippe turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaning a confused Louis and a concerned looking Chevalier alone. The king turned to his brother-in-law with a lost expression. “What did I do?”  
“You really don’t get it, do you Sire?”  
“No, actually! I’m completely and utterly lost on the subject!”  
He shook his head, sending his blond curls flying. “Surely you aren’t that dense.”  
“ _Excuse_ me?!”  
“Maybe you’re just willfully blind. And that is why you’re tearing him apart.”  
He followed Philippe out of the room, without waiting for the king’s leave and leaving Louis utterly alone with a mesh of confused thoughts. The king looked around him, picking up the ribbon and lace of his cravat to tie it around his throat himself. He would go visit Athénaïs, maybe she could help him make sense of all this. 

  


  
“I waited up all night for you...you did not visit me like you said you would, Sire. I must confess I am a bit disappointed.” Athénaïs was still in her nightdress and dressing gown, having her day’s reading in her hands. “So I am still wearing the attire I had prepared the night before.”  
“I had fallen asleep, forgive me.” Louis had taken off his coat and his cravat, Athénaïs raised an eyebrow at what she saw.  
“Forgive _me_ I should’ve been more understanding. Naturally you would’ve been worn out after consummating your marriage.” But it was said in that classic sly Athénaïs way, no malice in her voice at this insinuation.  
“That’s done with. We’ve done our duty and now he can fuck off back to Holland and I can continue my existence here.” He stretched out on the empty side of the bed next to her, resting his head on her chest. “Something troubles you?” She asked, stroking his hair.  
“Philippe is angry with me, he believes I enjoyed my consummation a bit too much. That I didn’t express the proper shame due to Henriette’s death.”  
“Well, did you? I mean, if you’re attracted to men and women I wouldn’t care as long you were still attracted to _me._ ”  
“I am very much still attracted to you.”  
“Excellent.”  
“And I don’t consider myself attracted to men...but it’s something about fucking William of fucking Orange that makes me want to fuck the shit out of him. But I can’t quite put my finger on _what_.”  
“It’s dominance. You two are both dominant personalities and I think that’s part of the appeal...neither of you are inherently over the other by rank of birth or wealth. You’re on a level playing field and so you have the thrill of fighting on equal footing.”  
“He’s not a king.”  
“That doesn’t make him not your equal, Sire. He’s a leader in his own right, and you’re so used to dominating everyone around you that when you meet someone you can’t dominate...it’s a delicious challenge, but let’s not talk more of him.”  
“Yes.” Louis rolled over, settling in between her thighs as she lifted up her nightdress. “Let’s not.” Their lips met as well as their bodies and for a moment, Louis forgot all about William of Orange. Well in reality, tried to forget but found his brain still drifting back to that annoying, intriguing, enigma of a man.  


  


  
Aforementioned Dutch stadtholder was sitting in the middle of the Versailles library, a stack of books at his elbow and one open in front of him. For all his other unfortunate defects, Louis de Bourbon did have good taste in books and he’d have to give him credit for that. “I should set off for Holland in a week...maybe sooner. I’m starting to miss my country, and I haven’t even been away for long. Not surprisingly since every day in Versailles almost feels like a month. How anybody lives like this, I’ll never understand.” But as much as the French king infuriated him, he also intrigued him at the same time. They were like the tide and the moon, the two of them. Always constantly pushing and pulling at the other, fighting for dominance with rare moments of equilibrium but somehow managing to co-exist for those brief moments.  
Suddenly he heard a knock at the door and straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “Van Pels...we should ready the men to leave...” but he was cut off once he saw who it truly was, they entered the room and shut the door behind them. “Oh, it’s just you.” William turned back to his book. “I thought you were with Madame.”  
“I was, but now I’m not.” Louis settled down in the chair nearest William, much like William did when he first arrived at Versailles. “Louis, what are you doing here? Have you come to antagonize me?”  


  
“Absolutely not, but this is my palace and I can go anywhere within its walls that I wish. And right now, I wish to do a bit of reading.” He plucked a book from the pile already at the table and opened the cover.  
“A Defoe man, I see.”  
“Of course, I mean even I enjoy a good adventure novel every now and again. I’m surprised you even read English literature.”  
“How do you know I read it? Maybe I just use it to line this gilded birdcage.”  
William snorted in amusement, a small smile quirking his lips up and he turned to see Louis trying to hide his own smile. And definitely hide the fact that he was staring at William’s lips. “Have you ever read Molière?”  
“Of course! I love him...just because I don’t like big gatherings doesn’t mean I hate theatre...but I couldn’t really find any books here surprisingly...”  
“I keep them in a smaller, more private space. Because the nobles were borrowing them and then “forgetting” to bring them back.”  
“Really?!” William actually laughed, causing a laugh to bubble from Louis’ own throat, William’s eyes following the line of his jaw. “Yes! One time my brother was vexed with me...”  
“When is he not vexed with you? And with good reason to be?”  
“You had to get that little barb in, didn’t you?”  
“Of course.”  
“Anyway, he was so upset with me that he hid my copy of _The School For Wives _...it was one of my favorites too! Took me forever to find it again.” They exchanged a look and William propped his chin on his elbows. “It seems nice, having a sibling. Even if that sibling is you.”__  
“Maybe God didn’t give you any because you probably would’ve made them kill themselves. Anyway, yes. There’s never a dull moment with Philippe around.”  
“Will you show me? The private place you keep your Molière books?”  


____  
“If you’re a good boy, I may consider it.”  
They huffed out a laugh nearly at the same time, their gazes never leaving each other. “I’ll show you my collection in exchange...that’s how equal exchange works, does it not? Anyway, I may have to teach you Dutch so you can read it. Everyone speaks French but it’s not fair that you can’t speak my language while I’m expected to speak yours.”  
“How hard can learning Dutch be?”  
“We’ve got a know it all over here, how exciting!” _There goes that damn twinkle in his eyes again!_ “Alright, I propose a challenge. You won’t be able to learn even _passable_ Dutch in three months.”  
“I bet you I could!”  
“Is that so? Are you willing to bet your ass on it?” William reaches behind Louis to grab his ass, Louis retaliates by grabbing a handful of his hair and exposing his neck, which he immediately bent down to suck a mark into.  
“What do you mean by that?”  
“What I mean is...” William gasped and Louis chuckled. “You have such a way with words.” “Huh?”  
“My riddle? And you said the answer was words...you were so wordy when we first met but now, not so much.”  
“If I’m right.” William punctuated that statement with a tug to Louis’ hair, satisfied with the gasp it elicited. “I top you. If you’re right...then you’ll be allowed to top me.”  
“For how long?”  
“I say...three months?”  
“Oho...You are ON!”  
“What are you...mmh, doing, Louis?”  
“You left me quite the little gift during our wedding night, so I’m returning the favor.” Lifting his face, Louis brushed back his hair and untied his cravat to reveal a darkening mark. “My brother was pissed off, you have no idea.”  
“Did it piss _you_ off?”  
“A little.”  
“Good.” William smiled, letting Louis bury his face in his neck again while he grabbed his ass to pull him closer. “Then I shall endeavor to leave more in the future. Maybe this time where you can’t cover it up, maybe your face?”  
“Do it and I’ll break that pretty face of yours.”  
“Why thank you, husband. And no, I don’t think you will.” Louis finally followed through with his wish of silencing that petulant mouth with his own, and things were satisfyingly quiet at last  



	7. For Blood and Wine are Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In some cultures, red is the color of passion and red flowers are the color of love and longing. While in others, red flowers are an omen of blood and death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am SO SORRY I haven’t updated in FOREVER, I just was dry for ideas! But I’m back now and Blooms is back too, consider it a New Year’s present! The title is taken from Oscar Wilde’s “Ballad of Reading Gaol”

“William?” Louis poked his head into his room, where William was sitting with a map across his table. “What is it?”  
“You’ve been keeping yourself inside quite a bit...one would probably think you were avoiding me.”  
“That is absolutely none of your concern, husband dear.” William said flatly, continuing to position the figures in the direction he wanted them. They’d been married for a month and while they could tolerate each other’s company for longer than an hour now (heaven forbid, they can even enjoy it sometimes), it was far from being a loving couple. And they definitely weren’t friends, maybe like roommates who could get their shit together long enough to pay the rent. “Alright, if you wish to be an obstinate brat...that is absolutely none of my concern.”  
“You obviously came in here to ask something, what is it?”  
“I was wondering if you’d go hunting with me.”  
“Hunting?”  
“I mean, if you don’t wish to go, that’s fine as well. Are you afraid that I’ll show you up?” Even after being married a month, they couldn’t resist the urge to taunt each other once in a while.  
“I won’t let you bait me, Louis. Not this time.”  
“I’m the paranoid one but it seems that it’s you who see danger around every corner.”  
“Would you trust the dog that bit you? I don’t think you would. Want to take me out in the forest and shoot me? It would make it seem like an accident after all.”  
“If I wished to kill you, I could’ve done that without being wed to you. We are going to be forced to spend time together at least once in a while, we may as well make the most of it. Are you interested or not?”  
“Very well...let me go get dressed.” William left the room, taking his book with him but leaving the map.

  


  
Louis summoned Bontemps and went off to his own rooms, shuffling as Alexandre dug inside his closet. “I think it’s admirable that you’re trying to spend time with the Prince of Orange, Sire.”  
“I’m stuck with him for life...we may as well do something that doesn’t involve sniping and dancing around each other awkwardly. I’ve told the kitchen to pack plenty of wine, because we may very well need it.” Bontemps emerged with two of the king’s favorite riding habits. “Scarlet and gold? Or black and green?”  
“Hmmm...” Louis walked over, running his fingers over the embroidery on one sleeve. “I do love red, but William is probably going to be wearing orange...I don’t want it to look like we’re coordinating, black it is. Hey...Alex?”  
“Yes?”  
“How did you feel when your marriage was arranged?”  
“I was scared to death.” Bontemps chuckled as he helped Louis dress. “Marguerite‘s mother was an absolute shrew, I was nearly certain that her daughter would be the same...I was delighted to find out I was wrong. She was just as nervous as I was, we were both children really. As I recall, she threw up on our wedding night.”  
Now it was Louis’ turn to laugh. “Really?” “It was horribly embarrassing. Neither of us knew what to do or what the other even wanted...but over the years we’ve gotten to know each other. I grew to love her very much.”  
“I don’t think I can hope for all of that, and to be honest there’s far too much between us. But perhaps...” Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Enter.”  
“The prince of Orange, Your Majesty.” Louis looked up to see William enter the room, and sure enough he was wearing orange, with gold embroidery. Not the best combination of colors but...Louis couldn’t really say anything, his breath had caught in his throat at the sight of his husband in that hunting gear. He immediately mentally chided himself but to his relief, he noticed color in William’s cheeks and the younger man’s eyes giving him a similarly appraising look. “You...look nice.” Louis forced out.  
“Thank you, so do you. Are you ready?”  
“Of course.”  


  


  


  
“You’re quite the skilled marksman...no surprise seeing that you’re a soldier.” Louis said, pulling his horse up alongside William’s as the Stadtholder aimed his rifle at the thickest part of the shrub in order to flush out any quarry.  
“I’m not much of a hunter myself, but I do enjoy riding. The fresh air, the freedom...”  
“Even the mud?” Louis quipped, arching an eyebrow.  
“Especially the mud. That’s my favorite part.” William said back amusedly, and the two men giggled almost as if they were schoolboys again. He was glad that he had accepted Louis’ invitation to go hunting with him, at first he thought about turning him down flat but then William figured...they had to spend time together whether they liked it or not: that time may as well be pleasant in some ways.  
“I must say, I’m impressed.” William continued. “Never would’ve taken you for an outdoors type of man.”  
“My brother is the soldier and yet he hates hunting and riding...says it would ruin his complexion and that the hats would smash his wigs. Odd, isn’t it? As for me, I live for it. One of the few times of the day I feel truly free, you know? Versailles is beautiful...but I love the outdoors. It serves its purpose, just like I can not deny that my palace serves its purpose.” Louis sighed, voice growing quiet and trailing off.  
“Purpose?”  
“I designed it to be a gilded cage, to protect myself from those who wished me harm. It would keep me in, and everyone else out. But even there in the one place I was supposed to be safe, I found myself in even greater danger than any other I have ever faced in my life.”  
“Like you design everything else.” William said softly.  
“What do you mean?”  
“You think I don’t see it? Your treatment of your brother, your friends. The rest of Europe, even your own people. Remember our conversation at the convent? I’d only bits and pieces from my spies then, but now that I’m seeing it up close, I am even more certain I was right than ever before.” William felt a bit of glee at seeing Louis squirm, he had gotten close to some uncomfortable truth and he didn’t like it one bit.  
“William, guard your tongue.” The older man warned.  
“Your brother was right. You think that the world opposes you. You keep everyone at a distance because you see everyone as a potential enemy, so you hurt them before they have a chance to hurt you. And in a way...I almost feel sorry for you.” Louis said nothing, and the two men held each other’s gaze before William caught sight of something near a tree and dismounted. “What is it?”  
“A red spider lily...that’s odd, I never thought that they would grow in a place like this.” He reached out to stroke his hand over the petals, plucking a few before getting back on his horse. “They’re beautiful. If strange.” _Like you_ was left deliberately unsaid.  
“You know, in China and Japan these are seen as an omen. Of death.” William said quietly.  
“That’s odd. I thought they’d be associated with romance, like red roses. They’re so lovely after all.”  
“It’s because they bloom around cemeteries. They say that these flowers grow in Hell, and that they guide the dead to the next reincarnation...it’s considered a faux pas to give them as a gift for this reason. Funny how red is for passion and lust but also blood and death.”  
Suddenly, Louis straightened up and reached for his rifle: “There, a right fine buck! You see it?!” William turned and there was indeed a buck, bounding out of the thick brush and away from them.  
“We’ll feast like kings tonight!”  
“Don’t you feast like a king every night?”  
“Well you didn’t, husband.”  
“You really don’t know...”  
“We don’t have time, the buck is getting away!”  


  


  
“Sire!” Louis looked down to see a man standing before them...he hadn’t been there before. “Who are you? How did you get here? Nobody is supposed to be here.” The king demanded, how did anybody just appear on their road like that?!  
“Do you really talk to your subjects like that? No wonder so many of them dislike you.” William said.  
“We don’t know who this man is!” “My name is Gilbert, Sire...and I just wanted to point something out to you.” He peered at the two of them from under thick, corn-colored bangs and Louis was getting more uneasy by the moment.  
“What would that be, Monsieur Gilbert?”  
“You denounce the Protestant faith. Rumor has it that you seek to drive us out of our homes and yet you wed one.”  
“You would question your king’s decision?” Louis said, his voice low and dangerous. “I would bring France back to God by curbing the heretic scourge if I were a worse man, but I tolerate it because it was the will of my grandfather. However misguided it may be.”  
William visibly grimaced, eyes boring into Louis’ back.  
“Yet you lay with a heretic every night.”  
“You don’t know what goes on in my bed! And you have no right to speculate!”  
“You’re a hypocrite, ever since you sat on the throne you’ve been a detriment to France!”  
Sensing tensions bubbling over, William cleared his throat and spoke, hoping to diffuse the situation. Louis was an odd chameleon, it’s funny how he could have a side that was alluring, almost endearing and another side that was horribly nasty. He’d seen both of them in the same hour.  
“Now sir, maybe we can help you...” William said calmly before the angry man turned on him. “You! You were supposed to be the champion of our cause! And yet you’ve fallen into the coils of this viper! I’ll save you my prince, and save France in the process!”  
“Louis, we should...”  
“William, get down!” Was all the Dutchman heard before a loud *bang* echoed in his ears and the whinnying of the horses seemed like thunder in a storm. The animal bounded away, and it was all William could do to keep control of his horse and not fall off...desperately trying to calm the horse as it kicked up more dust. “Dove! It’s okay girl, calm down!” He shouted in Dutch, pulling on her reins and talking to her before she eventually stopped. William breathed a sigh of relief, making a mental note to take Savoie next time...he’d seen battle and wasn’t as afraid. When he caught his breath, he got off and walked toward his husband.  
“Louis, we need to go...” William steadied himself on his feet, patting himself as well as Dove down for injuries and finding none, he turned to Louis. He wasn’t standing, he was on his knees in the fallen leaves. The younger man quickened his pace toward him, assuming he’d fallen off his horse but William’s eyes widened when he saw that Louis’ hand was clutched to his stomach, just under the left side of his ribs. Slowly pulling it away, it revealed his palm, waistcoat and his white shirt were stained with blooming red. “Louis!” He got to his feet and merely swayed, losing his footing trying to take the first step before William caught him in his arms. “Don’t try to move! It’ll be okay.”  
“William, I’m...” “Don’t talk!” William took off Louis’ coat and pressed it to the wound. “I’ll get help, just stay here!”  
“Versailles isn’t...that far away.”  
“You’re in no condition to ride back!” Louis found himself cursing the fact that they did not bring any guards, but suddenly they heard the sound of hooves coming toward them. “Your Majesty!”  
“The king! The king’s been shot! Over here!” William called, Louis was slumped against him and had gone worryingly pale.   
“Good old Alexandre...he must’ve instructed them to follow me without...”  
“I said stop talking, dammit!” William hissed. One of the musketeers got off his horse and ran toward Louis, helping him to his feet. “We must get him back to the palace. Sire, just hang on okay?” Louis found himself slipping in and out of consciousness, his vision as well as the voices around him blending into one odd soup of fading color before everything disappeared into black.  



End file.
